Kura Alone
by S. Lawliet
Summary: Do the deeds in a past life decide if you get a second chance? Bakura never found out, and the decision was made for him. A child again with no memories whatsoever, he's fated to run into danger again... This time in the form of the Wizarding World.
1. Name Of Power

_**'Kura Alone Prologue - Name Of Power**_

_The white-haired boy was crying._

_For many weeks now his dreams had been nothing but nightmares, dreams of blood, betrayal, darkness and death. Even when he woke up and tried to get through the day, the visions were still there, a lingering curtain hanging low over everything. How he wished they would stop._

_No one at the orphanage understood what was wrong. No normal four year old should have recurring nightmares, and while they were sympathetic at first, gradually they just thought he was doing it for attention. The boy couldn't count how many times he'd been sent to his room, or when worse came to the worse, smacked and being told to not have his dinner. The other kids whispered and laughed behind his back, making fun of his hair and smiling whenever he got into trouble. To them he wasn't a human, he wasn't a boy, no, he was simply a freak._

_Freak wasn't his name though. He had a name just like any other child, but what a strange name it was. In many ways it was just more fuel for the fire for the older kids, the type of kids that enjoy making fun of younger children to make themselves feel better. Despite this, there was just something about his name that installed pride and arrogance in the young boy, some kind of fire which helped him through the day. In his dreams his name was yelled so many times, making him believe that it was special and more important than the boring names everyone else had. He **loved** it. _

_"My name is Bakura Touzoukuou," he grinned, gazing around his new classroom. "It's very nice to meet you."  
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This is probably going to be my main story, and Scavenger of Lines will be my side... Either way, I hope you enjoyed this very short and confusing prologue XD.

I don't own Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh!. If I did, there would be cake.


	2. The Reasons Why

**_'Kura Alone Chapter One - The Reasons Why._**

"_Tell me… Have you ever heard the name of the village of Kul Elna?" _

"_Is there a monster in his soul as well?"_

_"There might be… Although for a mere thief... Low level… Weak monster…"_

_"Law and order? Don't make me laugh! The Sennen Items were created by death!"_

_"Kukukuku… What is evil? By your justice, as long as I'm loyal, that's enough to make me good?"_

_"How… This is impossible!"_

"_You know why? Because I've transcended beyond the level of a stupid criminal – because I'm the King of Thieves!" _**(1)**

Bakura Touzoukuou snapped awake, narrowly avoiding hitting his head on the low bunk above him. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, his head hurt, his hands were clammy and he swore under his breath in words that no five year old should know. It was just that dream again.

Brooding silently for the benefit of the three boys he shared a room with, he threw off his duvet and padded swiftly out the door. Keeping to the shadows came naturally to him, so he managed to get to his destination without making a sound. He was soundless and invisible in the depths of the night.

Sighing deeply, an action which made him seem far older than his five and a half years, he absent-mindedly kicked open the door to the roof and sat down onto the cold concrete, his snowy-white hair blowing freely in the breeze. Breathing in and breathing out again, he watched in fascination as his breath misted and floated away into the starry sky. Despite his apparent Egyptian background and his love of the heat, the cold didn't seem to affect him as much as everyone else. It was one of the many mysteries that confounded the people taking care of him, if not one of the many mysteries that confounded anyone who knew him by name.

He smirked slightly. Well, what could he say? He loved to keep people guessing. Though if he was to be perfectly honest a small part of him was getting sick of it. He wasn't quite sure how large that part was though, and that same part also wondered just how much of the act was actually him and not something which seemed to follow him around twenty-four-seven. He wasn't going to ask what had people so confused though, because for the most part he knew what had them so bemused, scared, and in some cases, hateful.

Those dreams, for one thing.

He scowled, again an action which seemed out of place on his young face. For the last year he had been plagued with two recurring nightmares, both with themes that seemed to be out of a fantasy movie (in the case of the first one) or a horror movie (in the case of the second). The first one happened to be the one he'd just had, and on the whole, he was kind of glad that that was so. Mature for his age he might be, but there were some things that five year olds couldn't begin to understand, and that dream full of a RPG board game, shadows, hatred and a strange boy named Ryou was not something he would wish on anybody, not even the people that poked fun at him at school and his so called home. Even though Ryou looked a whole less threatening than the man with a scar and the monster in the fantasy dream, the one that called himself the King Of Thieves. Sighing irritably, he supposed that beggars can't be choosers.** (2)**

He could either have a dream with one scary thing in it and the rest of it being reasonably okay, or a dream that was totally scary with one harmless-looking teenage boy in it. Standing up, he scooped up a pebble from the ground and threw it violently over the edge. Either way he was damned, and he didn't even know why he was thinking those thoughts to himself. Though there was no one around, he always hated to appear weak, or anyone other than the usual mask he hid behind, the-five-year-old-that-is-always-silent-with-the-freakish-white-hair-and-tanned-skin-that-is-going-to-kill-you-now-if-you-don't-look-away mask. **(3)**

Hey, at least it was something he had no trouble doing. It usually stopped people from getting close to him as well.

Sitting back down again, he no trouble thinking up the other reasons as to why everyone found him unusual. Though he hadn't been formally told this, enough listening at keyholes and searching through files with a far better understanding of the English language than anyone else his age possessed had given him a rough idea of his past before the orphanage. Abandoned three years ago at the doorstep of the very building he was in right now, with nothing but clothes and a note saying his name and age. Or, he assumed that it was his name, but at any rate he loved it even if it wasn't his real one. The manner in which he had been abandoned was hasty, almost seemingly chucked onto the ground with no concern for his safety or wellbeing, and when examined by a doctor apparently he'd been drugged, drugged repeatedly over a period of three days.

When the police got involved they couldn't find out where his family was either. It was almost as if he'd been taken to England just for the purpose of being abandoned there, and the person responsible had simply scarpered afterwards. **(4)**

Bakura snorted. At least the person had been scared or had enough sense not to stick around. That was far more than he could say for everyone else that seemed to dislike him **(5).** Huffing, which actually looked quite comical when coupled with his insanely cute PJs, he stood up abruptly. All this thinking was making his head hurt, and while he hated learning basic maths and playing with toys at school, which was all someone his age was supposed to be doing, he knew better than most that it was far less painless if you weren't in pain yourself. So with that final thought in mind, he walked back indoors and climbed into bed with a yawn. The clock read five-am.

As he slammed the door behind him a star flashed across the sky. Maybe the day ahead wouldn't be so painful after all... Or maybe the whole wish-on-a-falling-star thing is a redundant, over-rated, pointless waste of time. Either way his day would be more interesting. **(6)**

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**(1) - All said by Thief King Bakura, Atemu, and Siamun respectively, and copyrighted to Kazuki Takahashi.**

**(2) - Foreshadowing! Even though you won't understand it yet, and you're probably all WTF-ing at this point.... XD**

**(3) - Umm... Best not to ask...**

**(4) - He doesn't know how true that is...**

**(5) - It seems to be a curse, right? Let's all hug Bakura!**

**(6) - Cliche alert... But we get them a lot, so why not?**

**I realise that not many things will make sense right now... But I give full credit to one of the main ideas behind this storyline to esama, the author of "Bit of a Change." However, it only happens to Bakura, the storyline is different, and I'll try to stay clear of all the main cliches that are present in this section... Though you have to understand in order to mix stuff up the story WILL seems slightly cliche-ish... Ahhh I'm just confusing myself. Hopefully the Harry Potter side will come into play next chapter, if you couldn't already tell because of the ending... XD.**

**And before I forget, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or Harry Potter. Insert catchy disclaimer here.**


	3. Weakest Child

**_'Kura Alone Chapter Two – Weakest Child_**

Getting up after a night of no sleeping is never easy. Bakura groaned slightly as yelling and talking interrupted the precious amount of sleep he'd managed to snatch. Sitting up blearily, he rubbed his eyes, and then glared at the other boys in the room.

"Sorry Bakura." They said sheepishly. The white-haired boy nodded, blinked at the expressions the other boys, Matthew, Farid, and Bill were making, climbed out of bed and proceeded to get dressed rather hastily. While he was doing this the boys didn't move, rather bemused at the sight of the normally cold Bakura looking so flustered. Finally one of them had the nerve to speak up. It was Farid.

"Um… 'Kura… There's a leaf in your hair…"

All he received was a glare worthy of anything evil, first at the nickname, second at the comment. Bakura patted down his jeans and blue t-shirt, plucked the leaf out of his hair, smoothed out his wild mane as best he could, then strode past them without a word. Bill and Matthew clapped Farid on the arm as soon as he was out of sight.

"You've really done it now Farid."

"I heard that!" Bakura yelled. This was followed by a muffled set of cursing in different languages as he bumped into a social worker as she scurried past with paperwork. The papers then flew out all over the corridor, the once organised files now all strewn across the floor. The three boys looked at each other in surprise, then burst into laughter. It was simply one of the many quirks of the quick-to-anger young boy with the supposed Egyptian background. Even though they did often wonder where he learnt all the different (assumed) swear words, they didn't care. He was just Bakura.

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Running down the stairs and out of the door with a piece of toast still in his mouth, Bakura soon discovered that it was a bad idea to eat while moving. Ten minutes and one uncomfortable stomach later, he had arrived at his destination.

It was his school, and once again Bakura noted, with a small amount of glee in his lilac eyes, he had managed to beat the orphanage bus travelling there. Though it wasn't really much of a challenge; because for some unknown reason they dropped off the older kids first and the younger kids last. Something about schooling being _much_ more important for the students in secondary education.

_What a load of bullshit._

Bakura wasn't a great lover of the hell known as "primary school", but he knew that if you didn't start taking learning seriously from a young age what hope did you have in later life? Stuff like weekends, toys, even breaktimes seemed meaningless and trivial to him, because from his point of view all it did was encourage children to be lazy. He loved learning, he really did; but he just found it all too easy! In fact the hardest thing was to disguise his work to make it seem normal and not the work of someone twice his age, and even after enduring agony listening to the bubbly year R teacher going on and on about how _two times two is four_... He was always shooed out of the library when trying to do work more suited to someone like him! **(1)**

If one more bloody librarian tugged a perfectly understandable book out of his hands, pinched his cheek and told him in an oh-so-condescending tone that he wouldn't be able to read it yet... He didn't know what he'd do. He also had a funny feeling that whenever something like that happened someone was laughing at him, but he couldn't be so sure. Maybe he was just being paranoid and really it was just the Year Six girls giggling whenever he was told off by a teacher. Apparently he looked 'adorable' whenever that happened, though for the life of him he couldn't understand why. What was so adorable about him pouting when a seven-hundred page text book on algebra or a Shakespeare play was tugged out of his hands? **(2)**

Huffing, Bakura crossed his arms and slowly made his way across the bright and cheerful playground. He might take glee in getting to school early and on his own, unlike everyone else his age, but it still didn't change the fact that getting to school early meant waiting for the bell. It was one of the only things he seemed to share with other children; impatience.

Finally, after waiting for at least ten minutes, glaring daggers at anyone who stared at him weirdly, the bell rang for the start of the school day. Hefting his bag over his shoulder and walking in, he took off his shoes and mumbled a half-convincing hello to his teacher. Anything to get her to leave him alone.

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After a few hours of basic English, basic Maths, really, basic everything, it was time for lunch. Bakura knew better than to go to the school library and try to read there, the past experiences with the school's librarian and Year Six girls still playing on his mind. So instead he wandered outside, sat on a bench and opened his lunchbox, trying hard to ignore the pangs he felt everytime he saw his classmates sitting together on the field. _Really,_ he reasoned to himself, _they don't like you Bakura, and you don't like them. Simple. Even Farid, Bill and Matthew don't seek you out, and they live with you!_But even this train of thought couldn't distract him from the sight of the laughing students before him. Some of the meaner boys were even pointing at him, probably pointing out that he was on his own, and he scowled deeply. He wasn't some kind of freak to be looked down upon! He was Touzoukuou-ou-Bakura, the King of Thie--

_--A flash of yellow, or was it gold? He was powerless to stop the laughing guards, who were giggling and taunting just like the students before him. A cauldron. A big, large cauldron. A big, large cauldron that seemed to radiate death, a thing of darkness that those guards looked upon with faith burning in their eyes. He felt his small frame shake with anger as his village was tied up like animals in the center of the square. He saw his mother and sisters disappear with a splash of hot, molten gold, and all the while he was screaming, begging for it to stop..._

"Bakura! Wake up! Are you okay?"

Bakura looked up, his white hair in tangles and his eyes filled with tears. The part of his brain still taking in everything noted that he was on the ground, people were crowding round and a few teachers had mobile phones out. But he didn't see them. He looked around with almost killer intent for his next victims, though he had no clue as to why that word suddenly came into his head. Then he suddenly smirked.

He didn't know who the boys were, or even the person that they were picking on. All he knew was that they would pay dearly for daring to look down on someone. Shadows curled around him, eager to serve their master once more. Again he felt the burning desire of a long ancient challenge and felt the warm glow of the eye on his forehead, screaming just as loudly as he'd done three-thousand years ago...

"IT'S GAME TIME!" **(3)**

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(1) - **Again, just don't ask XD**

**(2) - Poor Bakura!**

(3) - There is a reason! There's a reason as to why he can play shadow games without an item! All will soon be revealed! And lets see if you can guess who it was played against!

Okay... I know that I just put up this story a few days ago, but pretty please can I have a review? Just one? It's nice to know when someone enjoys my writing!

I don't own Harry Potter or Yu-Gi-Oh!, and I'm currently too tired to think of a decent disclaimer.


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